Better Left Unsaid
by Lunafee
Summary: Soundwave and Arcee go through their usual habits. That being running off every couple of days to be with one another. (TFP SoundwavexArcee) [COMPLETE]
1. Chapter 1

A writing session between myself and Hillside Dancing On saved and published. All of this was improv'd so don't expect any deep storyline, at all.

Nevertheless, enjoy!

* * *

It wasn't the reprimands that got to her — Optimus's gentle insistence that she notify them before any future evening drives, or Ratchet's not-so gentle reminder that she could have been ambushed — though they certainly didn't help her prickling conscience.

There was just a time and a place for humoring Smokescreen. This morning, when all she wanted was a long, hot rinse beneath the wash racks followed by whatever recharge could be claimed before her turn on patrol, was not one of those times.

"Sooo. How many was it?"

"…Come again?"

"You know!" His voice dropped conspiratorially. "Vehicons! Getting the drop on you and all that? Fought 'em without backup?" And then, when she stared blankly, "I swear, you can tell me — I've totally been there before! I know you're tough enough to handle it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Smokescreen. It's like I said; I was out near the mountains and my signal cut off. Just a mistake."

"Aww, come on, Arcee. It's kind of obvious." He ushered her near; leaned in close. "You've got paint all over you."

Confusion gave way to realization.

Realization gave way to horror.

Horror gave way to wondering how Smokescreen, who could barely be expected to see a point, could somehow manage to see those minuscule flecks of black and blue-gray paint, dotted like evening stars across her hips and thighs.

"Now that I think about it..Vheicons usually aren't that color. That almost looks like..." Smokescreen leaned in closer to Arcee to further inspect the paint. Of all the times for Smokescreen to use the advice he learned from watching the children play detective games, it _had_ to be after the femme's little date with a Decepticon officer.

Arcee took a half step back with the weight of her pedes shifting every couple of seconds; figuring that if Smokescreen couldn't get a decent view of the paint, he wouldn't jump to any accurate conclusions.

The cadet's optics soon widened.

"That looks...kinda like..._Soundwave's paint_. WOAH! you fought **SOUNDWAVE**!?" The booming voice of the excitable mech turned some heads of the children.

"_Soundwave_? You took him on yourself?" Jack queried with a raised eyebrow.

Arcee raised a servo up in objection. "No, I _didn't_. Some of the paint colours just mixed with some energon or something."

"Are you SURE? I mean, beating down the slenderbot? That would've been pretty boss!" Miko chimed in with a slight bob to the head.

"No, I didn't even _see_ Soundwave, much less fight him." The femme corrected. The mention of the Communications officer triggered flashback after flashback.

Metal against metal.

frame against frame.

The radiating heat from such a dark slender body. And the pleasure, oh the pleasure-filled night was one she would not soon forget.

"Did he get you with his tentacles?"

_That_ jarred her from her thoughts in record time.

"W-what?!"

"You know!" Smokescreen flapped both hands; a swift, erratic gesture which resembled absolutely nothing. "Plug into you! Try and get into your processor?"

…What to even say to that? He hadn't — well, technically he'd gotten her several times. Wrapped her up in those feelers and plugged into an ancillary port, looping a charge that had felt like a thousand tiny glossa descending on her all at once. She'd been on the edge before they'd even began.

It was ridiculous, the ease with which he could get her going.

…Not that anyone ever needed to know that.

"Smokescreen, think about it for a nanoklik. If I _had_ met Soundwave and he'd patched into my processor, do you really think I'd be walking in here with just a few paint scuffs?"

Thank the Allspark.

An argument that actually seemed to pacify them.

"Alright? Does everyone believe me now?"

A few scattered murmurs, all some variation of agreement.

Miko sulked against the railing and sighed several times louder than was needed. "Man, that would have been the baddest thing! Arcee and Soundwave going down together, knocking fenders out in the woods at night…"

…

_Wash racks_. Of course.

That's where she'd been going, and exactly what she needed right now. Hot water and stream, something other than Soundwave and needle-filled almost-smile, the stroke of his eager EM field over her own, or the way he'd felt inside her…

"Hey, Arcee?"

"…Jack."

"Are your fans supposed to turn on like that?"

"What?"

"Your fans. I can hear them from here, you alright?"

Arcee's shifting stopped, she stood still, realizing that her fans were indeed working harder to cool her interior than usual.

Arcee's optics darted slightly from side to side, thinking of a valid excuse that could pass her off. "Oh it's nothing, probably just a little hot in here."

It wasn't exactly a /lie/, it _was_ rather warm inside of the base; or was it just her...?

"Hot? in the _dead of winter?_ Arcee what's up with you? Every time we mention Soundwave you get more nervous than _Jack_." Miko retorted as she slouched in her sofa, grabbing the TV remote and casually flicking through the stations without spending a second's worth of time to check what the network was on; ignoring Raf's mutter of "Miko, just _pick_ something".

"Hey, what's _that_ supposed to mean?" The teenager turned slightly in his seat to face the asian girl. Arcee took this time to slip out of the main room to get to the wash racks while the kids were busy bickering away.

* * *  
The water was hot, exactly the way she liked it; Arcee leaned back to relax further, soon jumping slightly as she heard a familiar voice speak out at her.

"...Hey 'Cee? Just...where do you go exactly?" The voice of Bulkhead questioned.

"I mean, we know you like to drive a lot, but when you come back you're tired, and you have paint on you. And When Smokescreen said it looked like_ Soundwave's paint_ I just...I'm just worried 'bout you is all. You sure you don't need any...help or anything?"

For a brief instant, Arcee almost wished she _had_ fought Soundwave.

It would have been so much easier to explain.

But deflecting Bulkhead's concern was a world away from dealing with Smokescreen. Bulkhead was _Bulkhead_, all earnestness and straightforwardness and understanding her history all too well. Ofcourse he was going to make the logical connection, remembering the last time she'd been so solitary, those first precarious days following…

…

Not that she could blame him.

If she'd caught herself sneaking out all night and then returning in a state of total exhaustion, she'd worry about her too.

"…'Cee?"

And so she did the only thing that seemed acceptable when confronted with a query like that.

"I know, I know. Maybe I'll cut back on the drives a little. But I swear, getting out has been good for me. Something about the night air."

She didn't outright lie.

Bulkhead frowned. "And the paint pieces?"

No longer visible, at least. The thought was so reassuring, she could almost feel her shoulder plates relaxing.

"Bulkhead, come on. It's Smokescreen."

The former Wrecker continued to survey her carefully, quizzically and still a tad anxious, as though he thought he'd seen her slip something behind her back out of the corner of his optic. It was only when she began to really worry that he broke into a knowing chuckle.

"Heh, okay. Yeah, I see what you mean."

And just like that, they were both reassured for the time being; relieved laughter rising along with the steam. But as the last of the paint flecks rinsed clean, Arcee couldn't stop that last stray thought from darting across her neural net.

She wondered if Soundwave was missing those steel blue specks he'd left her with. If the lost pieces were gleaming silver around his pelvic plating right now.

She wondered if anyone had noticed.


	2. Chapter 2

"There you go, good as new."

Knockout had finally finished repairing the crack in Soundwave's visor. With an air of finale and a quick blow to the glass-esque surface; he was done.

_Again._

The red medic casually strolled over to the spy, handing him his mask, a slightly glaze in the optics. "_Try_ to be more careful? That's the _third time_ I've had to repair the thing; what do you _do_ when you go out at night?"

Soundwave's optics somewhat narrowed ever so slightly-almost invisible movements to the naked eye, as he remembered the events of last night.

He was with Arcee as per usual, he was positioned on top of her as he thrusted; being rewarded with the heavenly moans of the femme. Before he knew it, Arcee lurched her helm forward and her crest collided with his visor's. With a chipping sound Arcee could see she had cracked his visor, yet Soundwave's thrusts continued without so much as losing a beat of the rhythm he composed. Pretty soon Arcee came to ignore it as well.

"Soundwave?" Knockout raised an optic ridge at the other, ready to wave a servo in front of the mech's face if needed be.

Soundwave's thoughts, meanwhile, remained firmly rooted in the pine copse where he and Arcee had crossed paths.

He remembered the intensity of her grip on him, the way she'd_almost_bitten down on her lip component when her overload hit, only to allow herself the freedom of crying out at that last moment. As though she knew how captivated he was by the sound of her voice.

"…Ahhh. So it's one of _those_ things."

The pine copse went up in smoke.

Soundwave's gaze rounded on the medic quickly — or as quickly as it ever rounded on anything, which really wasn't quickly at all. What he found was the slightest of smirks, slick and barely contained.

And beyond unacceptable.

"What? I'm hardly being crass." Another light, flourishing wave of the hand. "If it is, it is."

Soundwave's mind leapt ahead to this options. A few deft motions, a quick patch into the neural port, and Knock Out would online minutes later, thinking he'd nodded off at his console again.

Just as he was about to extend a feeler, the other mech turned to inspect his rapidly cooling blow torch.

"Never fear, I won't be asking who or why. Your private life is your own."

It was an indifference that wound up saving Knock Out's processor.

Soundwave slowly replaced the mask, vowing all the while to be more careful in the future. First order of business: remember that Arcee liked to dive at his face when he moved a certain way.

He'd catalogue that fact as soon as possible.

* * *

**~later that evening~**

The autobot base was in its usual routine. Ratchet was working, Optimus resting after their latest mission, and Smokescreen was...out. This left Bumblebee and Bulkhead with their positions of watching the children as they view their programming; all in the name of research...of course.

But one thing was indeed different; Arcee was with them.

There was a monster truck rally on television, and Jack had invited Arcee to watch with the lot of them. In a desperate attempt to get the Decepticon spy out of her processor,even if it was for an hour, she agreed.

And here she was. Sitting stoically in her place, staring at screen presented to her. Just _what_ was supposed to be entertaining about this? Two oversized truck crashing into each other? Riveting.

Just before what was left of Arcee's attention span left her, she got a sudden comm.

A set of coordinates...signed by a _Decepticon._ Arcee knew all two well who this was from by now; though somewhat surprised by how quickly this was brought to her attention Their last meeting was _yesterday_ after all. Could he really be in the mood _again?_

Hiding the urge to smile, Arcee coolly stood from her "seat"

"Hey 'Cee, where ya goin'?" Bulkhead asked casually, not taking his optics off of the TV screen for one second.

"Smokescreen sent me a comm, me wants me to drive with him."

Bumblebee beeped in question. "I dunno, maybe he's lonely?" Rafael answered.

"I'll see you guys in a while"

With that, Arcee transformed and drove into the exit to her destination.


	3. Chapter 3

She saw his biolights long before she saw his silhouette. It wasn't until the clouds peeled back from the moon that she was granted a decent look at him, slender and strange, like the figures humans sometimes propped up in their fields.

"Didn't take you long to call back."

Soundwave continued to stare at her in that unnerving, unreadable way of his. How fortunate that she'd grown skilled at reading him anyway.

"Fixed that crack in your visor?"

Soundwave's reply was inaudible, meant for her audials only — and for she alone to chuckle at. She did have to wonder why he wasn't making a move towards her, since he was usually all too eager to get these interludes started…

And then, with the soft hiss of fiber optics on grass, she had her answer.

Two of his feelers had been snaking towards her in the dark.

They found their mark gently, looping around a leg and creeping up to her waist, tugging her in closer. Not that he needed to, of course; as fond as she was of those appendages, it was the mech they were attached to that always drew her in.

And when his digits began to roam her frame, dipping into plating and teasing sensitive transformation seams…

She would have to be forgiven if she forgot all else.

Arcee allowed a slight gasp to escape her lips at the wandering digits of the other mech.

She couldn't lie; Soundwave had a way with his hands. Such delicate hands used for motioning transmissions and typing away at keys, slinking under plating to tickle the most sensitive of wires earning himself a moan from the femme.

"_Soundwave..._" could be heard in the faintest of whispers. This was the first time Arcee had ever called out his name; Soundwave filed that under an accomplishment, bringing the other mecha closer to him to see if he could find a way to get her to say it again.

Arcee felt her faceplates blush as she felt a sliding sensation over her interface panel. She looked down to see one of Soundwave's feelers nuzzling against it, asking for an opening on behalf of the slender mecha that stood before her. She smiled slightly.

"You really _are_ eager." Arcee spoke in a hushed voice, her tone smooth and somewhat seductive. She knew that one of the things Soundwave adored on her was her voice; and she planned on using that to her advantage whenever she could.

"Don't worry, we'll get to that soon. But first, the visor"

Soundwave always put up a resistance when it came to removing his visor. As of late, it was rarely more than the slightest token resistance, but it seemed the show of it was just something he needed to maintain.

"Come on…for me?" Knowingly teasing. There was a certain art to teasing Soundwave that had a lot to do with tone, and she'd grown very good at it.

With a soft hiss of affirmation, the visor window tucked itself neatly away to the side. Despite all they'd been through, she still couldn't get him to remove the mask completely…and for now, this would be enough.

As always, he did not disappoint.

Soon, his mouth was positioned at the crook of her neck, cajoling and worrying softly with his denta. Even with her helm tilted, she could make out their faint, ethereal glow.

She rolled her hips against him, pelvic plates exuding heat until it was impossible to tell who was burning hotter.

If the hum of his EM field was any indication, they were just about tied.

A small gasp escaped her lips as his denta began to nibble away at her neck wiring. Soundwave would have almost smirked at the accomplishment to get the femme to produce such sounds, but they had only begun.

Soon his glossa trailed down said wires and into the slight cracks of armor surrounding the femme's chassis. Once again, the ever-so faint "Nnn~" Sound graced his audials. Her moans were so...

_Delicious._

On Arcee's side, she figured that she couldn't let Soundwave dominate the pleasure field. Remembering that he still had a feeler coiled around her leg, she closed in the inner thigh of the other and began to rub slowly; sensually.

The spymaster shuttered at the sudden friction. Oh how Arcee _knew_ that Soundwave's feelers were terribly sensitive, that the slightest of rubs could send more pleasure rocketing through his circuits than one could comprehend on their own; And Arcee didn't need to comprehend it to use this tidbit of knowledge to her advantage. And to think; she found this out on_ accident_.

"_Do you like it?_" The femme whispered. A redundant question to ask for she knew the answer; Soundwave didn't need to utter or gesture a word, the shuttering of his frame spoke more than he needed to. Doing this only increased the licking speed the mech was moving at; as if he were accepting a challenge to see who could better pleasure the other.

He knew technically they would both win.

Soundwave removed his glossa from the armor plating it was squirming under, brushing an EM full of lust and desire to tell the other "_I need you _**_now._**" without so much as even looking at her. Arcee met the EM with one of her own; an inviting one accompanied with the soft click of her valve cover retracting. A bit of lubricant trickled down her leg and onto the feeler that was wrapped so snugly around it. It was as if she were doing this on _purpose_.

"_Come and get it..._"

The feeler never left her leg, even as they sank to the ground and the _snnck_ of his own paneling retracted could be heard over the dense cricket song. A quick brush of digits over the cable's smooth surface was all it took to make him shudder again.

Arcee allowed her knees to fall open, finding their way to either side of Soundwave's narrow hips as the spymaster positioned himself. The brush of his spike was unmistakable; long and slender, like the rest of him. When the tip slid across the metal rim of her valve, so close to entering it made her helm spin, she bit her lip and moaned aloud.

Soundwave didn't need to play her own question back at her to make his point perfectly clear.

"Heh…what do you think?"

She gave a light twist of the hips, seeking out what they both needed. Evidently, it was all the reply Soundwave required and all the teasing he could stand.

Fans roared. EM fields crackled. One of these days, their inability resist each other was going to lead them both to ruin.

As far as this night was concerned, they had other plans.

Carefully, smoothly, he entered.

It didn't take long before he was in as deep as he could go. With a glance at Arcee's faceplate he saw her optics had widened like the human utensils they ate off of. Oh how she craved his spike; and oh how he knew she did.

His thrusts were so slow, teasingly slow-_agonizingly slow_; he always did this before picking up speed. Soundwave knew he was a much larger mecha than Arcee, and he wasn't the type to take risks often-or ever. It wasn't until he felt Arcee rock her hips against his own before he picked up in speed.

The femme moaned out in approval, sliding her hands to rest on his chassis.

* * *

Smokescreen had finally finished with his drive, knowing very well that "drive" translated into "Street racing with the humans". If anyone asked, he could say it was done as research on earth customs...yeah, that sounded like a good enough excuse that would only get him funny looks from a _couple_ members of Team Prime.

He casually made his way back to the base, taking unnaturally sharp turns at every one; Didn't Arcee say something about having to teach him proper driving when out alone? Of course she said it with a sarcastic tone, but...it was the thought that counted right?

He passed a long stretched out field, the silvery light of the moon complimented his paint job quite nicely he could admit, but...glancing over the field he could see something... peculiar in the distance. There were two figures there. Probably some Decepticon's plotting no doubt. Smokescreen came to a silent halt and backed up slowly behind a tree before transforming into his robot mode.

He crept closer to the two figures to spy. "Aww man...those are definatley 'Cons, no doubt about it! Man...Just imagine what everyone would think if they heard that I took down two cons by myself. I'd be a hero! Optimus would indefinably be proud of me!" Smokescreen mused. He could already hear the praises now...

Smokescreen watched on from behind the tree. The more he listened the more he realized that...one of those cons was a femme! But...Airachnid was put in a stasis pod, right? This didn't add up to the rookie; Not one bit. It wasn't until he heard a particular voice that the peices started putting themselves together.

"_Soundwave..._"

...Was that...Arcee's voice!? it _was! _And she called out to _Soundwave_. "Arcee and...Soundwave?" Smokescreen thought. OF COURSE! it all made sense now! She was fighting him, probably off to stop one of his evil Decepticon plans, but Soundwave beat her, and was torturing her!

"_Harder...!_"

And now she was begging for more of his torture tactics, showing the creep that no-she was not afraid of him! Smokescreen made a mental note to commend Arcee of her bravery later.

_After_ he saved her.

Without another moments thought, Smokescreen jumped from behind his tree, and charged at Soundwave, beginning to blast at him.

"**GET AWAY FROM ARCEE, YOU CREEP!**"


	4. Chapter 4

Soundwave jumped clear — _skittered_ clear — as the small hail of laser fire rained down. Arcee had just enough time to bolt upright before the younger mech went charging past, guns blazing. It was clear he had one thought in his processor, and that was her safety.

She knew she yelled something at him.

It may or may not have included the words "don't" and "idiot."

Because in that moment, her worries had nothing to do with being caught in the act. Even their scuffed and debauched appearances meant nothing in the face of who Smokescreen was up suddenly up against. Soundwave would (probably) never harm her out here, but he made no such allowances for her teammates — not in the best of times and never when they opened fire first.

Before she could fall upon Smokescreen and seize him, drag him safely away into the dark, a well-aimed laser blast struck Soundwave hard in the shoulder. The spymaster showed no outward signs of pain, even with his mask discarded, and yet those red eyes seemed to burn just a little hotter…

Smokescreen laughed, short and triumphant. He shot a glance back at the thoroughly horrified Arcee.

"Nailed him!"

And then, without the slightest change of expression, he crumbled to the ground.

Trailing from one of the medical ports in his side, glowing ominously in the dark, was one of Soundwave's feelers.

_"Soundwave!_" Arcee snapped, springing forward, fully prepared to sever the cable if that was what it took. Once that connection was made, it was Smokescreen's mind that hung in the balance, and she knew it. "Off him, now!"

The glower he gave in return was not without danger. Still, the fact that he even looked at her showed he was in a negotiable mood.

_"No._ Not like this." And then, when he gave the subtlest nod in the fallen Autobot's direction, "I don't care. We are_ not_ resorting to that. This was my choice to come out here, not his."

Silence. Behind it, the obvious question of what she proposed for an alternative. Arcee sighed.

"Pull out and take off. I'm going to talk to him."

Those words did nothing but repeat themselves in Arcee's processor as she looked down at the fallen rookie.

Of all the mechs to catch her. It _had_ to be Smokescreen, of course; fate wouldn't allow it to be anyone otherwise.

Arcee kneeled down in front of Smokescren, ready to lift a hand to tap at the back of his head before he jolted up oh-so suddenly in a panic, Arcee lurched backwards to avoid being smacked in the helm.

" **BACK OFF, CREEPWAVE! I'M NOT AFRAID TO**-...hey, where'd he go? Did I scare him off?! I KNEW I would beat him!" If Smokescreen were a bird he would already be ruffling his feathers in pride.

"I _told_ him to go. He knocked you out cold, and if it weren't for me he would have...n-nevermind." Arcee trailed. Smokescreen tilted his helm to one side, then the other, then lowered it with an expression of concern plain as day...or _night_ in their current case.

"...Arcee...?"

"What?"

"...You..._weren't_ fighting Soundwave, were you?"

"...What makes you say that?"

Smokescreen pointed down; Arcee glanced and her optics doubled in size. Not only were there paint chips on her legs , but her valve cover never closed! And If not for the poor lighting, Smokescreen would see a trail of lubricant still trickling down her left thigh.

The cat was out of the bag now and the jig most defiantly up in the air at this point. No more hiding; but the femme remained silent, Smokescreen took this as a confirmation to his accusation. His own optics widened.

"That means that...that..."

"Soundwave and I have been...seeing each other...yes."

"S-so...every time you went out for a "Drive" You were really..._with HIM!?_ I-I gotta tell Optimus!-"

"_You will do NO such thing." _The femme anticipated this would be Smokescreen's reaction. If word got to "The big O" about her affairs with the Spymaster...

Smokescreen couldn't utter a peep.

"But WHY? This is serious! he has to know!" Smokescreen boomed. Arcee brought a digit to her lips as a signal to lower his volume, just because they were outside didn't give him the ready-go to scream out his voice box.

"We've been doing this for a while and never had problems before, until SOMEBODY came along. We will be alright in the future, just...just keep your mouth _shut_, alright?" Arcee warned.

"But...but _Soundwave_, and_ feelers_, and _EIUGH!_" Smokescreen shuttered. Arcee knew full and well about Smokescreen's detest for Soundwave's feelers. "I'll be fine. Just...just don't tell anyone, okey?"

"...Al...alright...I'll_ try_." He vowed. Arcee nodded.

* * *

Soundwave soon transformerd and landed back on the nemesis. His posture was as stoic and emotionless as ever, but he only felt one thing inside.

Soundwave. Was. _pissed_.

_How _**_dare_**_ that rookie have the _**_audacity_**_ to interrupt his fun? Once every few days after hours of decoding, hacking, monitoring, commanding, taking orders from Megatron and in some cases _**_Starscream,_**_ all_****_without question or complaint. Once every few days he had to himself and the Autobot solder to unwind into pleasure and closeness; and it was _**_ruined._**

Oh how Soundwave wanted nothing more than to ring the hapless Autobot's neck for this. He had better thank Primus above and even Unicron below Arcee were there to stop him doing something he wouldn't have regretted one bit.

While musing over all the possible ways Soundwave could kill Smokescreen, he almost didn't notice the vheicon drone that had approached him.

Almost.

Soundwave turned to the drone with his attention, halting his thought for revenge, for now.

▓▓░_/"yes yes, what is it?"/░▓▓ _He pulled from his recordings bank.

"Lord Megatron wishes to see you"

The path to meeting Megatron was twisted and poorly lit — but despite having every reason to be, Soundwave was not afraid.

His loyalties were assured. Never once had he given the Autobot information that could have compromised the Decepticon cause; never had they discussed such intensely personal matters or been so careless as to hint at it. That was one of their unspoken rules.

So in truth, all he ever_ really_ did was pass by her location.

If she happened to have the occasional overload as a direct result of his presence…well, that was out of his hands.

So to speak.

But even as his personal safety was secure, Soundwave knew that the future of their relationship may hinge on this meeting. The doors slid back with a heavy hiss as he drew near, allowing him entrance to the room where Megatron waited.

True to form, Soundwave gauged the sight at a glance. The Decepticon leader was _not_ stationed at the far end of the room, backstruts ramrod straight, optics full of accusation. His posture, while far from loose, was not entirely challenging. This was not the way he would confront a mech like Starscream, or even the way he disciplined the other officers.

Soundwave almost dared to consider relaxing.

"Soundwave," the warlord began. "Knock Out tells me that your visor has required some rather…extensive repairs. Apparently, this is becoming a regular occurrence. Is this true?"

Soundwave saw little option but to nod once.

"He believes the origin of these injuries to be no more than simple accidents."

Again, a nod. A lie by omission only.

Megatron shook his helm severely. "Your task is a tireless one, Soundwave. At the same time, the Decepticon cause cannot afford to have you working in such a severely compromised state. Nor will it suffer by trying.

You are to add another turn to your recharge cycle. That's nonnegotiable."

…And of course it was.

Soundwave knelt before his lord, playing back the most acquiescing recording he possessed.

Soundwave silently rose to his feet and began down the Nemesis' lonely halls. His feet clanked against the floor in almost in a rhythm..

_Yes_, he was still upset over Smokescren, and had no plans to "forgive and forget" for a long, _long_ time. But that bullet he Dodged from Megatron was a close one indeed.

The spymaster finally made his way back to his own quarters, figuring he would allow himself an extra earth hour of sleep before rising again into the grueling rut he called work. He didn't hate his job; it just got repetitive.

Soundwave eased himself onto his berth, lying his frame down into a flat stick-like figure; scrolling through the tabs of his work, figuring out which he was going to finish up now, or later.

._..Then he stopped to the photo of Arcee..._

One-third of him would have smiled slightly at that picture. And one-third of him did.

He closed the tabs after glancing at the photograph a second time, before finally allowing Recharge to claim him.


End file.
